


something’s crossed over in me

by hihoplastic



Series: DW Tumblr Prompts/Reposts [23]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, mild violence, mostly cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25022638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihoplastic/pseuds/hihoplastic
Summary: When Vastra and Jenny call asking for assistance, the Doctor expects the usual—alien incursions, hostile entities, idiot humans with too many guns. Instead, she finds Vastra, with her usual veil over her face, sitting in the parlor in front of an out-of-time computer, staring at a video feed from inside a warehouse with a slightly irritated, slightly impressed look on her face.“Your wife has gone rogue,” she says, and the Doctor stops dead.
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/River Song
Series: DW Tumblr Prompts/Reposts [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/331015
Comments: 9
Kudos: 223





	something’s crossed over in me

**Author's Note:**

> \- title from Thelma & Louise  
> \- for anon who requested “Thelma & Louise crossover” - I’ve never actually seen T&L (I know I know) so this is more of a... fusion? Homage? Theft? Etc. I hope you enjoy it!  
> 

When Vastra and Jenny call asking for assistance, the Doctor expects the usual—alien incursions, hostile entities, idiot humans with too many guns. Instead, she finds Vastra, with her usual veil over her face, sitting in the parlor in front of an out-of-time computer, staring at a video feed from inside a warehouse with a slightly irritated, slightly impressed look on her face. 

“Your wife has gone rogue,” she says, and the Doctor stops dead. 

“My wife?” 

Vastra gestures to the video screen, and there, in all her glory, is River, evidentially overseeing a massive weapons exchange with two time agents. 

“We called her in to help us _catch_ the criminals,” Jenny says, a bit put out. “Not help ‘em out.” 

The Doctor swallows, stares at the screen, at her wife, so beautiful, so alive, a hand on her hip and a gun strapped to her back as she flirts and barters with the time agents. She doesn’t know what to say, how to swallow down the lump in her throat—she hasn’t seen her wife in over a century, but the sight of her is enough to bring tears to her eyes, and she can’t look away. 

Behind her, she hears Graham say, “Hang on, wife?” 

Vastra glances at the Doctor out of the corner of her eye, and when it’s obvious she cannot answer, explains, 

“Dr. River Song is a professor of archaeology at Luna University in the 51st century, and a Time Lady as well.” 

“How come we’ve never met her?” Graham asks, standing beside her, looking back and forth between the Doctor and the screen. 

“Because she’s dead,” the Doctor says, too quietly, and clears her throat, tears her eyes away from the video feed. “I can’t help. I can’t cross my timeline.”

Vastra nods. “I thought you might say that.” 

The Doctor narrows her eyes, anger flaring, grief pulling at her hearts. “Then why did you call me?”

Vastra almost smiles. “Because she’s not dead.” 

—

Jenny fetches everyone tea while Vastra explains what she knows: how River had escaped the Library a few months ago in her timeline. How she’d stayed with them for a few weeks to get back on her feet, to readjust to a corporeal life, a real life, outside the mainframe. Vastra doesn’t know how she did it, and River wouldn’t say, but she’d thought when River left she’d go find the Doctor. 

“Evidentially, she’s taken her time in doing so,” Vastra says, lips pursed. Her veil is off, and Yaz, Graham, and Ryan have quickly adjusted to having a conversation with a lizard woman. 

The Doctor sinks into a chair, stares at the screen. “Why didn’t she find me?” 

“You’ll have to ask her that yourself,” Vastra says kindly. “I can tell you where to find her. And, if you’d be so kind as to please discourage her from _aiding_ the running of illegal weapons, I’d be most appreciative.” 

Jenny snorts and the Doctor nods, still processing, a flurry of emotions she can’t quite get a handle on making her palms sweat. 

River is alive. River is alive, and fine, and relatively safe, minus her current engagement, and slowly, a smile spread across the Doctor’s face. 

“She’s alive,” the Doctor says, and Jenny grins widely. The Doctor jumps up, presses a smacking kiss to Jenny’s forehead and grabs Yaz’s hand. “Come on, fam! Time to meet the wife!” 

—

The find River in an abandoned building in Frensham, only a few minutes after they’d seen her on screen. She’s still winding up the time agents, and the Doctor, Yaz, Graham, and Ryan peer at her from behind an assortment of crates. 

The Doctor can hardly breathe. She’s so close, and she wants to run to her, wants to throw her arms around her and kiss her absolutely senseless, but she knows she needs to wait. She listens as they negotiate terms: River will supply four cases of sonic weaponry in exchange for a vortex manipulator and a health sum of two billion credits. 

“How did you come by that much fire power?” one of the agents asks, and River laughs. 

“I don’t kiss and tell, dear,” she says brightly. “Now, do we have a deal?” 

The time agents confer for a moment, then nod. They arrange a rendezvous in an hour, and the Doctor waits impatiently for the agents to leave. The moment she hears the warehouse door close, she tells her friends to stay put and sneaks out, crossing the room as silently as she can. 

Still, she barely makes it within twenty feet of River before she turns, gun raised, mid threat when she stills, her eyes going wide. 

“Doctor?” 

The Doctor takes a sharp breath. “River.” 

She lowers the gun immediately, a smirk overtaking her features. “About time. I was wondering when you’d ruin the party,” she says, but it’s soft and teasing and the Doctor nearly wilts in relief at the recognition in her eyes. 

“You know me? This face?” 

River smiles softly. “All your faces.” 

The Doctor swallows. “And... you’ve done the Library?” 

“A while ago.” 

The Doctor stares, drinks her in, refuses to blink in case she disappears. River holsters her weapon and takes a step forward. “I assume this is the first time you’ve seen me, then?” 

The Doctor nods. 

“Well? What have you got to say for yourself?” 

It’s an invitation, if the Doctor’s ever heard one, and without thinking she lurches forward, buries her hands in River’s hair and kisses her, mindless of her friends watching, mindless of the danger, mindless of anything other than River’s lips on hers and her body pressed so close. The Doctor drops a hand and presses it to River’s chest, over her hearts, hears the steady, true beat and half-sobs. 

River smirks against her mouth. “Handsy,” she teases, and the Doctor chokes out a laugh. 

“I missed you,” she breathes, though it’s not enough, not nearly enough for how she feels. 

“I missed you too, sweetie.”

The Doctor pulls back, just enough to meet her gaze, still holding her close. “Why didn’t you call me? Vastra said it’s been months.” 

“A bit longer for me.” She holds up her wrist, the vortex manipulator strapped there a little worse for wear. “My vortex manipulator shorted out when I came here. I’ve been trying to locate a new one—this one only does space coordinates.” She rolls her eyes. “Useless when tracking a Time Lord.” 

“Again, you could have just called me.” 

River smiles. “Too damsel for my taste,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind the Doctor’s ear. The Doctor leans into her touch, so distracted she doesn’t hear the approaching footsteps, but River does. Tenses, her hand going to her weapon, but when the Doctor turns it’s just her fam, slowly inching forward. 

“It’s alright, they’re my friends.” 

River relaxes. “Starting a shelter, are you?” 

The Doctor half glares at her, but it’s mitigated by her wide smile. It’s difficult to focus, but she finally manages to get the plan—River fully plans on making the trade, however, she’s installed a tracking beacon on the weaponry and sent the coordinates to the Time Agency, who, she assures them, will be more than happy to recover their missing “assets”—as well as two rogue time agents. 

“You know they’re going to double cross you,” the Doctor says, frowning.

“Oh, undoubtedly. They’re planting charges around the warehouse as we speak.” 

“Plan?” 

“There’s a car over there in case of emergencies,” she says, “And now I’ve got you.” 

The Doctor grins. She’s about to come up with something—isn’t what what yet, but it’ll materialize as she talks—when there’s static, the crackle of vortex, and the unmistakeable sound of guns cocking all around them. 

“River Song.” 

There’s a time agent standing in front of them, flanked on all sides by others, bearing weapons, and River immediately tenses, puts her body between the man and the Doctor. 

“Hello, boys,” she says jovially, but the Doctor can feel the tension in her frame. “Come to collect your merchandise?” 

“And then some,” he says. He’s a tall man, with broad shoulders, blonde hair, and a malicious glint in his eye the Doctor doesn’t trust immediately. 

“Well, your weapons are here. Your rogue agents should be back momentarily.” 

The man smiles. “You mean these two?” He says, and two of the men step forward, removing their helmets. 

River tilts her head, but doesn’t betray her surprise. “Not so rogue after all,” she says, then considers. “Or you’re all on the take. Interesting. A whole platoon—I’m sure the Time Agency will love to hear about this.” 

“I am the Time Agency,” the blonde man says, and the Doctor notices a pin on his lapel, a high ranking officer. 

“So if it’s not the weapons you’re after...” 

“Do you have any idea how much a Time Lord goes for on the black market?” 

River sighs, as if it’s all a minor inconvenience. “Let me guess—you want the Doctor.” 

The man looks a little put out that he didn’t get to explain his nefarious plan, and behind her, the Doctor snorts. It draws his attention, and he frowns at her, at Yaz, Graham, and Ryan, standing behind her with their hands up. 

“Who are they?” 

“My strays,” River says. “Just can’t shake them.”

“Rude,” the Doctor mutters. 

“Doesn’t matter,” the man says. “Kill them.” 

They’re about to open fire when something metal lands in front of the time agent, blinking red. “What—” he says, as the Doctor yells, “Down!” and the smoke grenade goes off, the plume enveloping them. She can hear Yaz coughing, shouts at her fam to run, but she finds she can’t move, can’t go to them, even though she knows River will be fine. She can’t leave, won’t leave her, not again, shouting for her across the gunfire. 

“Get down, you idiot!” River yells, and the Doctor does as she says, still worried, can see beams from the sonic blasts arc across the space. She hears bodies thud and swords and the unmistakeable sound of Strax, declaring victory for the glory of Sontar. 

The smoke clears just enough for her to locate Yaz, Ryan, and Graham, huddled behind a large crate; she can see Vastra and Jenny, working their way through the rogue time agents, and River, glorious River, taking out more than her fair share of men. The Doctor can’t help but smirk—and then she catches River’s gaze, and River nods to the crates of weapons, and the Doctor remembers.

She nods back, ducks through the gunfire and quickly opens the crate, uses the sonic to engage the locator beacon, one that will bring actual time agents, she hopes. 

She hears River yell across the din to Vastra and Jenny, to get the Doctor’s friends and get out of there. Vastra nods, quickly crossing the room to Yaz, Ryan, and Graham just as the smoke finally clears. 

There are still three agents remaining, including the leader, and River’s blaster makes a whining sound, then sparks. 

She curses, rather creatively, distracted just long enough for the leader to point a gun at her head. The Doctor dives, pushes her out of the way, and they hit the floor with a grunt. River looks up at her, all sultry eyes. 

“Really, is this the time, sweetie?” 

The Doctor snorts, but grabs her hand, drags her over the car. “We need to draw them away from Vastra,” she says, and River nods, pushing her away from the driver’s seat. 

“I’m driving.” 

“Oi!” 

“You can barely parallel park, sweetie, I’m not putting you in charge of maneuvers.” 

“They’re on foot, why would it be—” she starts, just as River hits the gas, and she yelps, grabs onto the seat as River careens out of the warehouse. When she looks behind her, the remaining agents are on motorcycles—“Where did they get motorcycles?!”—and River pulls a large gun from seemingly nowhere and thrusts it at her. 

“Cover fire.” 

The Doctor shakes her head. “I’m not—”

River glares at her. “This thing goes 16 km at best; hit the ground for all I care, just keep them off our—” She ducks as a blast whizzes over their heads. “—tail!” 

The Doctor nods, grabs the gun and turns in her seat. It’s easy enough to use, and she winces, closes one eye, and pulls the trigger. The blasts hit the ground in front of the motorcycles, and she sees the agents swerve. 

Okay, she thinks, this she can do, and keeps up a steady stream of gunfire, aimed at the ground, at the wheels. The bikes keep pace with them, but they’re dodging, unable to keep firing as they try to keep out of the way of the blasts. 

It’s the slowest high speed chase she’s ever been part of, and when she glances over at River, her wife is cursing up a storm, and she laughs. She laughs, because it’s ridiculous, because they’re barely moving, because they’re together, because River is alive and beautiful and cross and she’s so filled with joy she doesn’t know where to put it all. Beside her, River glares, but there’s a quirk to her lips as she says, “I don’t suppose you could lend a hand, sweetie.” 

The Doctor grins, stops shooting for a moment to pull out her sonic and aim it at the engine. Something sparks, but the car suddenly lurches, and River steps harder on the gas, the car bolting forward. The Doctor grabs on, nearly loses the gun, and River swerves a hard right, a hard left, keeping them out of the line of fire. 

Fortunately the space isn’t developed yet, wide open, no people, but the motorcycles are gaining despite the Doctor’s renewed cover fire, and when she turns back around to see where they’re going, there’s the unmistakeable sight of a cliff, looming in the distance. 

“River,” the Doctor says, just as she slams on the breaks, the car turning sideways, not far from the edge. The Doctor lurches forward, then back, grunting. Within a moment, two agents come up on both sides of the vehicle, one behind them, guns raised. 

“You’re out of options, Dr. Song.” 

River looks at them, looks at the cliff, looks at the Doctor. “Trust me?” 

The Doctor smiles. “Always.” 

“Then let’s not get caught,” she says. 

The Doctor’s eyes widen and she looks at the cliff, looks back at River. “Are you sure?” 

River’s eyes sparkle and she leans forward, grabs the Doctor by the back of the neck, and kisses her. 

“Get out of the vehicle, Dr. Song.” 

“Maybe next time,” she says, pulling away. She throws the car into reverse, and the agent behind them dives off his bike, out of the way. River pulls the car up so it faces the cliff. 

The agents fire on the vehicle, trying to take out the tires, but River maneuvers left and right, like she isn’t driving an old, clunky Panhard. She picks up speed, and the agent in front of her keeps firing. They both duck, blasts ricocheting off the engine, and the Doctor has to give the man credit, he waits until the last second to jump out the way when it’s clear River isn’t going to stop, isn’t going to slow down. 

Instead, she keeps one hand on the wheel, and reaches for the Doctor’s hand with the other. The Doctor takes it, squeezes tightly, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes as the car veers over the cliff.

The free fall is exhilarating. She feels her body float for a moment, opens her eyes, looks over at River who’s looking at her, all affection, undying love and the Doctor grins, keeps her hand tight in River’s, and shuts her eyes again. 

She feels something like static creep along her skin, a jolt of electricity, and then the hard slam of her body against something. She takes a deep breath in, opens her eyes and mouth and inhales water. Her respiratory bypass kicks in almost immediately, and she looks around, sees bubbles, can’t see River, but she’s still holding on, and kicks her way to the surface. 

She gasps as she breaks the surface, hears River do the same, and shakes the water from her head, looks around. They’re in the middle of the lake, far away from where the car suddenly impacts with the beach and explodes. 

River coughs, and the Doctor drags her closer, treads water and reaches for River’s face with her free hand. 

“River?” 

“I’m alright,” she says, and half laughs. The Doctor smiles, and after a moment, they’re both laughing, breathless, relieved, exhilarated. 

“I thought you said your vortex manipulator was broken.” 

River grins. “The time coordinates are shot. Still works well enough space-wise in a pinch.”

“Lucky.”

“Prepared,” River counters. 

The Doctor grins, and they both look back at the cliff face, can just make out the time agents, staring over the edge. A moment later there’s a ripple in the air, and a small time ship appears, hovering at the cliff’s edge, wailing sirens and a tractor beam focused on the three remaining rogue agents. 

“You’re insane, you know that, right?” The Doctor asks, and River looks back at her, eyes bright. 

“Where do you think I learnt it from?” 

The Doctor laughs, and kisses her fiercely. 

“You’re alive,” she says when they part, stoking her fingers over River’s face. 

River’s smile softens. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

The Doctor exhales, unable to stop the grin pulling at her cheeks. “Thank god for that,” she says, and kisses her again.


End file.
